


No Remorse

by Queen_Leggy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Keith (Voltron), Artist Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Multi, Pining Keith (Voltron), Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Leggy/pseuds/Queen_Leggy
Summary: Keith knew he was stupid, knew that he couldn't keep Lance near him anymore. Had to push him away like he had pushed away so many other people.Hanahaki ran in his family after all.





	1. Calm Before The Storm

Keith knew he was stupid, knew that he couldn't keep Lance near him anymore. Had to push him away like he had pushed away so many other people.  
  
Hanahaki ran in his family after all.

He had lost his mum to this disease, she'd survived it once before so she thought she was safe, didn't see her husband slowly slipping out of her fingers until it was too late. She spewed up Forget-Me-Nots, a flower permanently ruined for Keith. He knew all this, and still, he couldn't push away Lance.

So Keith was stuck, with Lance in his apartment, having fallen asleep during their study time and Keith, while irritated, didn't have the heart to wake him. Lance talks in his sleep, Keith noted. Lance mainly said random phrases that made no sense, like, "I will harvest your toes." Clearly, Lance had been spending too much time with Pidge. Keith tried to tread lightly around his apartment and avoid the squeaky floorboards, while he wasn't sure how easily Lance woke, he couldn't risk waking him.

He grabbed his softest blanket, one that he used when he was feeling at his worst to try to calm the waves, he tried to push away those thoughts. Lance deserves this because it's simply his best blanket. 

He places it on Lance's shoulders and gets back to his studying, but even when asleep Lance is a distraction. His face is soft and every now and again his nose crinkles slightly and another blackmail worthy phrase is said. It's endearing really.

Keith knows he needs to push Lance away, build up his walls again, but he knows Lance will just worm his way back in. He's worse than Rolo, at least he knew Rolo would give up eventually, Lance was stubborn and persistent. Lance was learning to read him, he was a constant who was always there even when Keith fucked up. Keith knew he was making a mistake, knew that he was risking everything.

Future Keith can deal with that, present Keith wanted to gaze at Lance a little bit longer. Wanted to commit this quieter side of Lance to memory, every nose crinkle, every freckle and every flutter of his lashes. 

"And then the wolves came."

Keith had a small smile and his eyebrows softened. Dork. Lance must be having one hell of a weird dream. He'd need to ask about this later.

Keith didn't know when he fell asleep but he woke up to the sound of Lady Gaga and the smell of toast and coffee. Lance places a mug by Keith's head and heads back to the kitchen, dancing along to some bubbly beat, those hips have to be criminal. 

Keith pretends to be asleep for a couple more minutes while Lance finishes off whatever he's doing. He then struts over, what sort of person struts? He shakes Keith awake, Keith could've sworn Lance was trying to remove his head. He wiped the tired away from his eyes and sends Lance a death glare.

"I have to go soon, but because I'm so kind and generous I made an extra breakfast for you." Lance's voice was loud and animated, along with his face. His presence took over the whole room and brought more life in.

"We have the same class dumbass."

"We have to go soon, is that better mullet?"

Lance wolfed down his breakfast and practically finished his coffee in own gulp. Keith didn't know how Lance didn't choke and die.

Must be some stupid ass superpower.

They left together, Keith barely remembering to grab his keys. Lance then took it upon himself to complain the whole way as they trudged through the zombie horde to their first class. Unlike Keith, who was fine (maybe tolerate would be more fitting) with the early morning, Shiro often made him go for a run at 6 am every day, Lance hated it. Lance didn't have time for his morning routine, his pores would hate him, they're probably clogged because he hadn't washed his face properly since yesterday morning, and worse yet he went to sleep before brushing his teeth.

Keith listens to every complaint, trying to not laugh at how ridiculous it was, his pores weren't going to be that bad. His face was unfairly clear with not even a small pimple. Keith still has some of his acne scars and sometimes suffers bad acne, especially around exam season. 

As Lance gradually gets louder and more expressive, Keith's face softens, he's just glad none of the others are here, or heaven forbid, his brother. He doesn't need another thing to worry about, he's already got enough on his plate. The fact that Keith is close to developing a fatal disease is unfair to Shiro. Besides, Keith doesn't actually know if he's going to get sick, at this moment it's merely a theory. 

Hopefully, it stays that way.

He shouldn't have let things get this bad. He knows he's falling hard, maybe he's already fallen and in the sea of Lance.

He's not even Lance's type, firstly he's male, and while Lance seems to like long hair, he keeps making fun of Keith's "mullet". Also, every woman Lance has flirted with has always been stunning, like angels sent from above. Sure, Keith may be gay as fuck, but he can still appreciate beauty, regardless of gender.

Keith shouldn't have let Lance break down his walls like this, he should've put up more of a fight.

He can feel his chest tighten as if something was tying a rope around his lungs. Please, just let this be a panic attack and not Hanahaki. He begs the universe for one small blessing. Just one small blessing, just hold off the disease for a couple more weeks. Something, anything, just not this, not now.


	2. Panic at the Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew it was going to happen, but he never expected it to be this soon.

Keith normally loved art history, the teacher, Coran, had an animated way of speaking that really grabbed people's attention and helped him understand. However, he was off today and the cover teacher was a bland man who didn't know that you can speak with more than one tone.

Lance was scribbling notes while Keith just recorded it, he'd make notes later.

Keith didn't understand how Lance could write so fast and still be able to read his handwriting later. He had a large, slanted and loopy handwriting, which seemed to grow in size the faster he wrote.

So he just drew, making small doodles in his margin, he didn't really think much about what he was doing, he barely even looked at his page, sometimes he drew eyes, sometimes he drew roses, sometimes he just made lines without pattern or an image emerging, sometimes he drew a face that may have resembled Lance. Even a drawing of Lance seemed to be so full of life and energy, it was relaxed yet still full of expression.

He wasn't going to let Lance see those doodles.

He couldn't let anyone see them actually.

So he went back to drawing flowers, lavenders and roses were his favourites to draw. He had vines crawling up his page and flowers littered around, creating a beautiful garden with only his ballpoint pen.

He could feel his chest tighten, and something feels to be moving around, not like butterflies in his stomach but ants in his lungs, which was a completely disturbing thought. He tried to ignore it.

He was certain he didn't have much more time. In the next couple of days, he was sure that he'd cough up the first petal. His mum told him the first petal was the worst, he shivered at the thought of it.

Lance looked at him with a puzzled expression before going back to note-taking. Keith tried to pay attention to the teacher but fear was coursing through every vein and became part of him that everything was blocked out.

The class drew on for years before being dismissed.

Lance stuck by even as the crowd pushed out of the room. How Lance did that would forever remain a mystery as people were constantly pushing past them.

“Keith, buddy, my man.” Lance sounded concerned, his eyes were focused on Keith's skin, which was ashen.

“What?”

“You look more dead than normal, you ok there?”

“Yeah, just tired,” Keith said, like a liar.

“Get some rest, and if I find you'd been staying up all night again I will kick your ass.” Lance tried to sound serious but there was no weight behind his words.

“As if you could with your lanky ass legs.” Lance's legs were unfairly long.  
“Don't underestimate them, Mullet.”

The two parted ways and Keith flopped onto the sofa as soon as he got back, his next class was in a couple hours so that left him with at least a one hour nap.

He started to cough, small ones which did nothing to ease the tickling in his throat and lungs and just caught Shiro's attention. Something that Keith would've tried to avoid if at all possible. Keith tried to tell Shiro that he was going to miss class and that he was fine, just a cough, nothing serious.

Shiro wasn't buying it, but he couldn't skip the class. He left, telling Keith that he should confess to Lance. Keith opened his mouth to argue but Shiro had already left.

Finally, Keith got a strong enough cough, to dislodge whatever had irritated him. There was something in his mouth, which he spat out.

A red, curled petal, covered in mucus and spit.

He knew that it was going to happen. He didn't expect it to be so soon. Not today. Not now. He was hoping for at least a couple of days to prepare. He didn't know how you could prepare. There had to be away.

He struggled to breathe, his hands were shaking and his legs felt weak. Tears welled up in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. This couldn't be happening, this had to be a highly realistic nightmare. Yet, normally his nightmares didn't make any sense.

But then again, flowers growing in your lungs and heart doesn't exactly make any sense either.

So this could be a realistic nightmare. He would go to sleep and wake up and Lance would just be a friend.

But Lance hadn't just been a friend for a long time.

He had met Lance in his first year of high school through Pidge, and over the years they evolved from rivals to friends and then Keith saw him as something more.

He shouldn't have let it get this bad. He should've trusted his gut and pushed Lance away. Should've built up his walls, and kept building them as Lance pushed past them. Constantly built up his defences.

Maybe this was inevitable, but he could have delayed it, gave himself some more time to live. Now it was a matter of weeks, or with a life of constant surgery, months or even years, but not long. Hanahaki didn't give you time, it gave you a countdown.

He needed more time. He pulled a blanket over him and listened to hear if Allura was in. He was alone.

So he allowed himself a moment to cry, loud, heavy sobs which moved through his whole body, tears that caused his face to have pins and needles, and made his body weak. Tears that puffed up his eyes.

He felt cold, even under the blanket. Shivers ran down his spine and his hair stood up in a pitiful attempt to warm him up.

Eventually, the tears stopped and with unsure feet, he stumbled to the bathroom to splash water over his face and place cold wet cotton pads over his eyes, a trick he learnt from Lance to reduce puffy eyes.

He didn't know why Lance knew it seeing as Lance never had puffy eyes, actually, he had very captivating eyes. They said so much about him and were always full of life.

He took deep breaths which irritated his lungs but he refused to stop until his heart rate had gone down. He didn't even notice how fast his heart was going just a couple of seconds ago.

He forced himself to go to his next class, a drawing from life class, and he just threw himself fully into the drawing. Trying to focus on the lines and tones rather than the tightening of his ribs and the fluttering in his throat.

Just as long as he focused on his drawing, making it correct. Yet, no matter what he did, it looked like it would disappear any moment, which was odd seeing as he was drawing one of the most buff men he has ever seen.

He ran straight to his room and under the excuse of homework he barricaded himself inside, coughing up two more petals.

 


End file.
